Unknown
by the.subverter
Summary: Liara becomes all the more awkward when she discovers her Prothean knowledge and intelligence is useless around the indecipherable and confounding Shepard.
1. Mess Hall

A/N: I haven't written ME stuff in ages! And I don't have much time these days... I randomly started playing ME the other day in order to gear up to ME3 and then felt compelled to write something/anything with Liara. I honestly don't know how long this story will be or what it's aim is but mostly I plan to have fun (initially) with Liara's awkwardness. If it spirals into my usual horribly dysfunctional m.o. well... don't be too surprised. I'll currently label it as comedy. I think my initial (perhaps terrible idea) is that this will span across all the games but knowing me...

* * *

Shepard is unlike any human she has ever known. It stands to reason that she hasn't known many. She can't imagine they're all like her. Liara T'Soni knows that despite the brief time they've spent together, Jane Shepard is exceptional: one of a kind. She is both elegant and brutal in combat. Liara has never seen such a force on the battlefield. She had thought, erroneously, that only Battlemaster Krogans could be so intimidating. She may be a scientist but since coming aboard the Normandy she's learned how little she knows, how much more there is to learn. She would not mind if Shepard were there to help teach her…

Ah, what are these thoughts? Shepard is interesting because of her link to the Prothean beacon. To have been touched by such technology! Having spent half of her life studying Prothean culture has never brought her close to a discovery of that magnitude. And the commander had seen that vision and survived it with her mind intact…! Yes. Shepard is exceptional.

"Focus, Liara," she says under her breath. Ashley Williams, seated across from her makes a small sound of irritation. Liara turns her attention back to the tray of food in front of her. The mess hall doesn't have the finest food but it's at least on par with most of what she ate while on dig sites throughout the many years.

"Do all Asari sit around talking to themselves?" Ashley asks.

Liara looks back at her. Kaidan, next to Ashley, gives her a wary look. Liara's cheeks burn. She sets down her fork delicately. "No, of course not. I'm only…distracted."

"Why?" Ashley asks. Liara bites her lower lip. She knows that the soldier doesn't trust her. She wishes she would not be so obvious about her dislike. "We can't afford distractions, _Dr. T'soni._ "

"Cut it out, Ash." Kaidan shakes his head at her. "It's early. Let's just eat. We've got enough people eager to blow us to hell without jumping all over each other."

Liara tries not to look at him too gratefully. No doubt Ashley would misread her intention. Truthfully she hasn't mastered the small nuances of conversations with humans. She wonders if she ever can. She wonders again if it's their short lives that makes them so brash and volatile.

"Typical." Ashley gets to her feet, taking her tray huffily and marching away.

Liara is so embarrassed she can't speak. She picks up her fork again and dully stabs at the mess of food in front of her. Kaidan looks after Ashley and mirrors Liara's actions. "Sorry," Liara says to him. "It was not my intention to…" anger Ashley Williams? She suspects the woman dislikes her for more reasons than being Benezia's daughter. She has seen Kaidan look at her longer than is customary for any casual glance but not in any way that is inappropriate or typical for the human race. If he has any wild imaginings about her, he would sorely be disappointed. Spending so much time on dig sites has hindered her in other ways.

"Forget it." Kaidan takes a few bites of his food. "She'll come around."

"I imagine it's difficult for her to trust me. I assure you that I'm here for—"

"Hold on. You don't have to explain anything to me. If the commander trusts you, that's enough for me. I'm just a lieutenant. It's her word that matters."

"Glad you've finally come around, Lieutenant," Shepard says with a smirk. They both look up at her, no doubt wondering how it is that she sneaked up on them and how long she's been listening to their conversation. "Ah, this is what I like to see, my crew making nice with one another."

Kaidan laughs. "With all due respect, Commander, you weren't here just a moment ago." Shepard arches an eyebrow but Liara shakes her head desperately at Kaidan. He catches her drift and lets it go. Shepard doesn't, crossing her arms and waiting. "Well, you know how it is." He says. "Nothing like an exciting breakfast in the mess hall."

"Just make sure it doesn't get too exciting." Shepard warns. Kaidan nods as if used to this sort of directive from Shepard. Liara mimics the action moments later, too late and Shepard looks at her with a small degree of amusement. Shepard must think she's so foolish. Liara's face burns again. At this rate she'll turn Kaidan's color and not her usual blue. Blushing is not something she did much of while working on research. "Glad to see you out here, Dr. Tsoni. Too much time in the med bay isn't good for you."

"You can say that again, Commander," Kaidan gets to his feet and takes hold of his tray. Shepard gives him a minute nod, dismissing him and he goes on his way.

Liara debates whether she should eat in front of the commander, try to start a conversation with her (over what? The Prothean beacon again?) or… well. She doesn't know. She's mulling it over when Shepard speaks. "You're thinking again." She drops down on the seat opposite of her.

Liara tells herself she's excited for her presence for all the things she could learn and no other reason. "Oh. Yes. I am."

"About?"

"I…ah." She brings a hand to her forehead as if that will help draw out any thought. Shepard folds her arms on the table and leans forward. Liara is convinced that the woman knows how awkward she is and takes a special delight in teasing her. "About—everything," she says. "Saren," she throws in, "and ah—the Protheans, of course."

"Hm." She says. What does that mean, 'hm'? She's still considering when Shepard continues. "How are you settling in? The Normandy is cleaner than what you're used to spending time with."

Liara doesn't know how to assess the statement. She isn't sure if it's meant to be insulting or if it's as direct as it appears. "Oh, yes. That's true. It's much louder than what I'm used to."

"Louder? Tali thinks it's too quiet."

"The Quarians are used to spending all of their time together on old, worn freighters. They're a lively, communal race. I've spent much of my time alone in abandoned ruins without any company for weeks, sometimes months on end. But… I told you that already." Shepard smiles and Liara can't read it. She clears her throat. "So…" Shepard waits. "Ah, do you think it's too quiet?" Goddess, why has she asked such a stupid thing?

"It's quieter than some of the other vessels I've served on," she shrugs. "But a little peace and quiet to break up the monotony of firefights and killing—I won't complain."

Are all humans so cavalier about killing? No, they can't be. If they were they wouldn't fret so much or try to bully the galaxy in the way that they do. "Oh. Yes. You're very formidable. In battle," Liara adds.

"Mh."

'Mh.' This is different from her previous 'Hm.' The letters are switched around but does it have any meaning? Not that it would help matters, she still hasn't figured out what the first 'hm' meant. "Forgive me—I don't quite know how to respond to your…small noises."

Shepard laughs and rests her chin in her hand. "My small noises?" and this time she allows another small smirk. "What _are_ you thinking about?" Shepard looks at her. Liara stares back, perplexed, feeling her nervousness grow. "Why, Dr. Tsoni, are you blushing?"

Liara is near hyperventilating when Shepard spots Kaidan, gives Liara a sidelong smile and leaves. Liara waits for her heart to settle down. Who knew that eating in the mess hall could be such an exciting and confusing affair?


	2. Control

A/N: I have received a positive response to this story. Thanks so much, everyone! I'm surprised, but delighted. Ah, reviews and alerts are like cream puffs to us lowly fanfic writers. Thanks to the TAM for beta-ing. I wanted to name this chapter Strong Female Characters. I'll find some way to resist. And as one might see, this is starting to lose it's humor... so predictable of me...

* * *

Liara catapults the geth into the air, moving it as if it were a rag doll. Its bizarre, electronic bleats confound her. The Geth have moved past the veil and are working with Saren. It's a lot to process. She's deliberating the possible outcomes and necessary contingency plans when she's snapped out of her reverie by a loud gunshot. Her head rings. She turns to see Shepard lower her sniper rifle. A geth bulb of a head, lens cracked, light fading, spins in a fast circle at her feet before slowing, a tangle of metal tubing sparking light.

"Think you could pay attention in a fight?" Shepard asks. Liara looks up. "You'll have to do more than just stand there and look pretty if we want to beat Saren and the geth."

Liara is at a loss for words. She takes the moment to release the geth armature she's been wielding. It falls to the cold concrete ground of the compound and smashes into pieces. Liara doesn't know if she ought to tell Shepard that the problem may be that she pays too much attention. The argument (faulty as it may be) is swallowed by the processing of the commander's other words—

Shepard thinks she's pretty.

Breathe. Focus. Shepard also thinks she's inept in battle. "I…don't know if that is a fair assessment," Liara looks at the littered geth corpses. She will not focus (as she wants to) on Shepard's quasi-compliment. Humans have figures of speeches. That one in particular may fit into the human stereotypes of asari being nothing but promiscuous aliens. "…Commander," she adds quietly.

Shepard stomps closer, dull gray armor glimmering in the pale artificial lighting. Liara winces but clears her throat, standing taller and trying to stare down the commander. She fails and looks away. "How _dare_ you question me?" Shepard asks. "In case you've forgotten, I'm running the show." Liara shifts and looks back brazenly at her, ready to say—well, something. Anything. The arrogance of this human! She had helped—it's only— she stops when she sees Shepard's smile, strands of hair falling over her eyes. "You make this too easy."

Tali, who has been weaving through stacks of crates in the compound, pipes up. "It isn't nice to tease other impressionable races, Shepard," Tali says moving nearer to them, stooping by various geth pieces, picking them up and examining them. She punches several keys on her omni-tool, sighing now and then before moving on to others. "You'll give us all the wrong ideas about humans."

"Or all the right ones," Liara says under her breath. She shouldn't be petulant. The commander will think she's childish.

Shepard chuckles, eyes gleaming mischievously. "If you didn't make it so fun I wouldn't keep doing it."

"It isn't as 'fun' as you think it is, Commander," Tali returns, turning a geth arm, fingers still wrapped around an assault rifle in her hand. She drops it. "The Council would dictate you lead by example."

"The council has denied your people an embassy for how long now? Screw the Council. What's the fun in leading by example? I'll stick to leading through body counts." She turns to Liara who sees smudges of oil and dirt on her face. Shepard gleams with sweat. Is she strange for finding Shepard attractive right now? Perhaps she is only reminded of a ruin, waiting to be unearthed and…discovered… Shepard is saying something but Liara is lost in thoughts. She doesn't know what they are. They're more a feeling, or hope, than anything manifested in images. Why is she thinking of Shepard? She should be thinking of data. That's how things have always been with her. That's comfortable and familiar. It's exciting albeit in a different way.

Shepard claps a hand on Liara's arm, much as she would an old friend whom she's told a particularly saucy joke to. "Citadel space to Dr. T'Soni? Come in, Dr. Tsoni." Liara looks at her, squints her eyes and blinks. "Seriously, though." Shepard says. "Pay attention."

* * *

Liara types frantically, having recalled some things about some of the Prothean artifacts that she'd discovered in the past that now paint a clearer picture. She is becoming accustomed to the Normandy. The vessel is remarkably quiet (in its own way, or at least in comparison to combat) and she has been able to gather her thoughts nicely. It is peculiar. She's dedicated half of her life to Prothean study and though it is half of her life and she is an expert in the field, she can now say that she knows relatively little. She does not have time to do the necessary studies. She hadn't needed much more time, perhaps in two or three hundred years she might have discovered something that might prove useful to Shepard. Unfortunately that time is not afforded to her. She must work harder.

She types again with renewed intensity, completely absorbed in her work until a hand comes down on her shoulder. She jumps in her chair, knocking it back and sending her now cold cup of coffee spilling and nearly clattering to the floor. Shepard reaches past her, grabbing hold of the mug mid air and setting it on the desk behind her. Coffee spreads in a black ooze behind Liara, dripping onto the floor. Shepard is near. "Didn't mean to startle you, Dr. Tsoni."

"Oh. You didn't. I mean—it's all right. I was very immersed in what I was doing. I suppose that I am still not accustomed to having others…so close." Shepard steps backward and Liara regrets her poor phrasing. "Was there something you needed to speak about?" she asks the question but simultaneously turns her back to her, looking around for some napkins to wipe up the mess. She doesn't find them and waits anxiously for the conversation to progress to its finish so she may clean. "I'm sorry about this— I'm not usually so clumsy." That's mostly true, anyway.

"Most people get nervous around Spectres. I just didn't think you would."

"Oh but I ah—I'm not…" she clears her throat and decides that the best course of action is to dive straight into the conversation. Shepard isn't entirely right. Neither is she entirely wrong. She knows that pointing this out will only leave more ground for her to be ridiculed. "I know you're busy, Commander. Is there something I can help you with?"

"You cut straight to the chase. I like that. Is that always your policy?"

Liara stares at her. Her office is dim and it doesn't provide the necessary light to properly gauge whatever it is that may be going on in Shepard's head. Not that there is enough light available in the universe to provide that. "I—I suppose I've never really thought about it. The chase—or the policy." She had thought adding the last would salvage the conversation but finds that she's only succeeded in sounding more ill at ease.

"Mh." Shepard says. Liara bites her tongue to keep from asking what the meaning behind the word (or sound) is. "The Normandy has been docked for hours."

"No, that couldn't possibly be—" she looks at the time on her computer and cringes. "Oh. I've lost track of time again…" she wrings her hands nervously. "I never had the opportunity to properly collect the data from Therum. As you may recall, I was a bit—"

"Tied up?"

Liara swears she sees her smirk. "Erm. Yes. And we've been so busy in the meantime that I—"

"Is there anything in there that's crucial to our current mission?"

"I would argue that—"

"That's a 'no' then." She goes to the door of the office. "Come here. There's something I want you to do." Liara hesitates and looks back at the computer. There is so much to do! The commander can be awfully flippant about certain matters. Shepard's voice gets hard. "I gave you an order." Liara scurries over. "Nice to know you can follow them."

* * *

Liara is ashamed, but does not admit, that she had not known their destination was the Citadel. Shepard explains that they've made a stop to pick up supplies and to connect with Citadel officers about the details of missing soldiers. Liara walks next to her, listening to the spectators 'ooh' and 'ah' at the woman they whisper is the first human Spectre and the 'Butcher of Torfan'. Liara is afraid she does not understand the reference though she knows enough to know that both titles would not appear to go hand in hand. Shepard has no reaction, not so much as a narrowing of her eyes. Liara wonders how she got the scar that cuts through her left eyebrow, the scar along her chin. She's too embarrassed to ask.

She is not opposed to asking Shepard where the bookstore might be located, thinking of some reference books that would prove exciting and useful reads. The question of bookstores is forgotten when Shepard shepherds her over to C-Sec. Liara had forgotten how many turians occupied Citadel-Security though she can't say she's spent much time on the Citadel. They regard her impassively.

They go through halls and down flights of stairs, Shepard not chatting and Liara unable to think of anything to discuss. The blank, massive room they arrive in with the blinding white lights is unfamiliar to Liara but Shepard looks to be in good spirits. She puts a pistol in Liara's hand. Liara looks at the weapon, cold and heavy and then to Shepard who smiles cheerfully. The things this woman smiles at… "I don't understand."

"How's your shooting, T'Soni?"

"Ah. I haven't had much use for weapons on my travels. I've found my biotics more than capable of accomplishing any task."

"How'd that work out for you in Therum?" Shepard quips. Liara frowns lightly. "You're a damned good biotic but biotics can use weapons. Think of it as a supplement." Liara looks at the gun helplessly. "You're not afraid to use a pistol, are you?"

"I've never…" she considers. "Why not use bullets? With my biotics I can direct them at the proper target and speed to produce maximum—"

"Because the sight of a gun is enough to make most people piss themselves. Let's keep your biotics the trick up your sleeve when we can help it. Not enough can be said for the element of surprise. You may be asari but you don't look like a Commando. Anyway, using bullets with biotics defeats the purpose. I need you as strong as I can get you. Biotics can wear anyone down, especially during long missions and firefights. Do you get headaches? Migraines?" Liara shakes her head. "Kaidan does."

Liara wonders how attached Shepard is to her lieutenant. "Asari don't suffer the ill effects that human biotics do. We are born with our powers and naturally take to it better than humans who must have modifications implanted." She says as if reading from a book. "I've never used a pistol. You might say that Therum was my most exciting archaeological dig. I never expected for everything to happen the way that it did. Or to meet you."

Shepard's smile is so brief that Liara wonders if she's imagined it. Shepard's in front of Liara one moment and the next she's beside her, positioning the gun in Liara's hand, making sure that she's holding it properly. "Steady your strong arm," Shepard says and grabs the bottom of her arm to make sure it's properly braced. "Don't be fooled. They pack a decent recoil for a smaller gun." She points ahead of her to what Liara now recognizes as a target range. "No, you're holding it wrong. You want to hug it with your hand." Liara isn't sure how one hugs anything with just a hand. Well…she can think of some ways a man might. She gives her head a shake. Shepard takes her wrist as if it were a utility, yanking her away from the thoughts and pushing the pistol grip firmly into the pocket of her hand. "You only want your fingertip on the trigger, not your joint. Show me." Liara looks down at the gun and does as she's instructed before turning it back. "Good. And you always want to have your shoulders square and facing the target. Wrap your other hand around the one holding the grip." Liara does so and tries several times over, Shepard saying 'no' each time. Shepard tsks and appears to give up. She is clearly disappointed and Liara who never cared to know how to hold a gun, suddenly wishes she were better at it. "Like this," Shepard covers Liara's hand with her own. Liara can't help but notice the difference in their skin tones, Shepard's olive, the lightest of bronze colors and her own a medley of blues. Shepard's skin is warm. Liara focuses more on that than on how Shepard shifts her fingers. "Remember this," Shepard tells her lowly, "it'll serve you well. It's crucial."

Liara turns her face to look at her. "Crucial? For…?"

"Control."

"Oh." She's staring. Shepard looks back at her, unflinching, unyielding. Liara wonders how any one person can be so confident. Her hold is slipping from the gun but Shepard's fingers tighten, refusing to let her drop it. "Thank you," she stammers out.

Shepard issues a slow smile and then steps away. Liara regrets when she lets her go. The cold air rushes back to her skin. "Now let's try it with some live ammo, shall we? And some targets. We'll make an Asari Commando of you yet."

Liara doesn't think she's heard a more ridiculous thing in her life. She thinks of what her mother's role may be in Saren's plot and feels guilty. "Ready when you are, Commander." If making herself into an Asari Commando will somehow absolve her mother of any crime… No. None of that makes any sense at all.

* * *

Liara hasn't spent too much time with krogans, as such, is not adept at reading their faces. Liara imagines Wrex isn't as horrified as she is when Shepard informs the captain that his squad of soldiers is dead. Shepard delivers the news with the gentleness of a bullet between the eyes. The captain, visibly distraught, makes an excuse and Shepard returns to her and Wrex, leading the way back to the Normandy.

Wrex grunts his appreciation. "I like how you get things done, Shepard. None of the weepy heart-to-hearts I hear you other humans having. We could do with more humans like you. We could do with more krogans like you."

"And have you as my competition? My scars don't compare to yours." Shepard says. Wrex bares his teeth in a craggy smile. "Think they let krogans into the Spectres?"

"Not historically," Liara chimes in. "Typically the Council likes to promote from within their races. Appointing Spectres of other races elevates that race's position but can create tension with others who don't think they have been given the same opportunities."

"Does she always talk like this?" Wrex asks.

"Pretty much," Shepard says.

"Council races," he mutters under his breath. Liara looks up at the hulking krogan. He glances down at her and snorts. Liara wonders what amount of force was necessary to give Wrex the scar that is cleaved onto his face. "What do you say, Shepard?"

"Sorry, Wrex. I don't think I'm ugly enough to even be an honorary krogan," Shepard returns. Liara winces, waiting for Wrex to deliver a blow strong enough to knock her onto one of the pristine Citadel walls but he guffaws instead, his tremulous laughter making his shoulders shake. He parts ways with them, stopping suddenly at a store with fish tanks with some fascination. "Tough guy," Shepard tells Liara.

"The Krogan are a resilient species," Liara says automatically, smiling briefly as she observes Wrex staring through the many fish tanks, his talons tapping lightly on the glass much to the vexation of the store owners. "Commander… if I may say… don't you think you were a little…direct with that captain?" Shepard looks at her. "His squad is gone. Surely the terrible news could have been delivered with some more…finesse."

"I don't have time for finesse. His men are dead. The sooner he accepts that, the better."

"But surely…"

"Softening the blow won't bring his men back, T'Soni. Stick to what you know."

Liara is ready with another question but she bites her tongue when she notices how Shepard's eyebrows have narrowed at long last. "You can call me Liara," she mumbles under her breath to the commander, but Shepard doesn't respond. Stick to what she knows, Shepard says. If she did that then she'd never communicate with anyone. What does she know outside of her Prothean studies? Nothing that would be enough to engage the common person. There is no one on the ship that she has truly befriended and she knows next to nothing about Shepard. She's beginning to suspect that the commander dislikes her, disheartening as the thought is. She wishes she knew more about her. Perhaps if she knew more she might be able to have better dialogues with her. Some moments pass before she realizes that the commander is watching her. "What is it?"

"I'll have Tali and Garrus help you with your marksmanship. If you're interested."

Liara doesn't believe that's what Shepard had been thinking of but knows better than to question her and risk her ire again. "Of course. But…I hope you don't think me too forward in requesting that you continue to instruct me as well. If you're so determined that I become an Asari Commando."

Shepard gives a light shake of her head. "You don't have the disposition of a Commando. It's hard to imagine you outside of a lab. Think of it as part of your charm. And your secret weapon."

She tries not to think that Shepard has said that, so many of her statements are tactical. "I'll have to convince you then. I want to help you stop Saren. As for my mother's role in all of this…" She rubs at her forehead distractedly. "I really can't figure it out. Not everything has to be solved through bullets, Commander. Sometimes diplomacy is the only solution."

"And sometimes you need firepower. Liara—" she stops, taking gentle hold of Liara's arm in the process and pulling them into a small alcove of shadows. Liara can see television screens in the distance blaring news. Turians, humans and asari weave their way through the crowds, chatting and shopping. Liara is filled with apprehension with no direct cause. She looks anxiously at Shepard. "Whatever Benezia's role is in all of this, we'll deal with it when we get to it. Until then, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I don't want hypotheticals weighing on your mind. But be ready."

Liara looks at the woman in front of her, eyes luminescent in the darkness but still frustratingly unreadable. Are Shepard's words meant to be comfort? Her words are a gift, weapon and protection, extended blade first. How is she not meant to be apprehensive and frightened? Maybe she is only a little girl that needs to grow up and face that she may have to do the one thing a little girl never dreams of having to do to their mother. No. She knows her mother. She is only letting her imagination get carried away with her. Hadn't Benezia always chastised her about that? She'd always been gentle with her. Little Wing, she'd called her. Maybe she knew how fanciful she was and how eager she was to get away from all the stress of being a Matriarch's daughter. "I'll be ready for anything, Commander," Liara says, shuffling slightly.

Shepard nods after a long time. "I'll be counting on you."

They leave the shadowy space they inhabited all too quickly. Liara's thoughts are heavy but her spirits are lifted when Shepard brings her to a bookstore. Everything can be read electronically these days and on omni-tools and computers, but Liara much prefers these tangible books, heavy and concrete; she enjoys their weight and the feel of the pages beneath her fingers, the sound of a sheet being lifted and turned. She shares these thoughts with Shepard who shrugs. "Let's go get some booze," she says, "Ever been stuck in the middle of the galaxy with no alcohol? What a nightmare."

"Is it really?" Liara asks. Shepard's look is enough of an answer. Liara hurriedly buys her books and joins the agitated commander outside of the shop. What is she supposed to know about her nightmares? Can she ask? She isn't sure how the commander would respond to the questions. "Let us go get some 'booze' as you say, Commander. I can't fathom the joy all races get from alcohol. It embarrasses me to admit this but I've never drank to the point of inebriation."

Shepard cocks an eyebrow. "You're kidding me."

"I most certainly am not. When I was with my mother—I had to play a certain role. You must understand the scrutiny I was constantly under." Liara says but Shepard offers another gentle shrug. Liara doesn't know what to make of it. "When I finally got away from her I was on dig sites unearthing—well, you know. It wasn't alcohol I was finding and if I did how was I to know that my system could handle it?"

"Come on, ever try to live a little?"

"I'd rather stay alive than risk a toxin that could kill me."

Shepard laughs. "We have a little downtime left until we leave the Citadel and are back in space. I think it may be time to get you drunk, Dr. Tsoni."


	3. The Chase

A/N: This chapter was meant to be longer but then I realized it'd take me a while to put it up so I opted for a shorter chapter (and writing the other sections as another chapter). Thanks to TAM for proofing. Next chapter, Garrus action! Also, everyone, thanks for your reviews. It inspires me to write my silly imaginings instead of letting the ideas fester in my head.

* * *

The clinking of bottles and glass in the mess hall dance like wind chimes in the air. The usual heavy cloud of gloom has been broken and for the time being, the motley crew of the Normandy is gathered together. A shout or a laugh breaks conversations every now and then. Others turn their heads to catch where it has come from before returning to their talks. All in attendance are in good spirits, drinking spirits.

Liara is petrified. The Normandy crew regards her. Perhaps it is her fault for not exiting the med-bay more often and quelling their curiosity. Some look at her suspiciously, Ashley Williams chief amongst them. Others rake her with their eyes and licentious stares. Then there are Garrus and Wrex who glance at her as if she doesn't exist. Liara unknowingly tugs at the collar around her neck. The usually cool Normandy feels warm. After all of Shepard's talk of getting her drunk, the commander is nowhere to be found.

"You're not going to have any fun, girl, if you stay against that dark corner there all night." Dr. Chakwas tells her. Liara looks to the woman, hovering near the door of the med-bay and smiles with relief. Thank the Goddess, a friendly face! Even if she does happen to be teasing her. The good doctor holds a can of beer in her hand like many of the other Alliance soldiers on the ship. It's easy to see why she's popular with the men and women of the Normandy. "Don't tell me the asari don't know how to throw a good party."

Liara walks to her, stepping away from the shadows where the mess hall table sits underneath pale yellow light. "I can't say that I'm used to hosting or attending many parties. Why, the last one I attended must have been near six decades ago." She bites back the additional comment that it was in the days when she spent more time under her mother's wing.

Chakwas laughs. "Before my time. Damned long ago, if just barely," the last is an aside. She has a swig of beer and tugs another smile from Liara and some of the soldiers in attendance. "You haven't had a thing all night. What are you waiting for? It's all safe, Shepard knows how to take care of her crew. At least with the alcohol." Liara doesn't know why Chakwas felt the need to add the caveat onto her statement. Shepard strikes Liara as capable and incapable of letting her team down. "In all the other ways too, when it comes down to it," she adds as if sensing Liara's thoughts.

"I fear I may not be as well versed about Shepard's history as some of the other Normandy members."

"That's good. There are enough rookies here kissing her ass without adding an asari to the lot. We're scientists. Let's act like it, damn it. Would you like a drink? I think it may be time to grab another. I'll bring one to you," she goes, heading with determination towards the bar when two women with desperately worried expressions stand in her way and begin to whisper violently. Liara sees Chakwas blanche and the face of the professional doctor come back on. Chakwas is lost. And here she'd been hoping Chakwas would keep her company for the remainder of the evening…

She positions herself next to the med-bay door, initially alarmed when the door slides open and closed with every shift in her movement. The party attendees look at her with amusement but she pretends not to notice, stewing in her awkwardness sullenly. She's satisfied when she finds the proper position and abashed when she still doesn't know how to present herself to the other members of the party. She tries to think of suitable conversation topics and wonders how ashamed her mother might be at her crippling shyness and general ungainliness. If other asari were present they might opine that her weakness comes from being a pureblood, having been passed none of the boldness of other species.

She sighs inwardly and holds her breath when she spots Shepard rounding the corner, having come from the bridge. Their eyes make brief contact and Shepard nods minutely before moving on. A wave of disappointment laps over Liara. Despite their disagreements, she has had the most conversations with Commander Shepard. It's a peculiar thing to find herself feeling lonely in the midst of a large group after spending years in solitude. She's turning to withdraw into the med-bay, thinking of the work that she might be working on when there's a tap on her shoulder.

She turns too quickly, too eagerly. It isn't who she'd expected. It's the young (by her standards) quarian girl. "Hi." Tali says. "Want a beer?"

* * *

They withdraw from the crowd in the mess hall. Liara hasn't spent much time in the engine room but thinks the space reassuring. Tali is enthusiastic, focused and talkative. Liara appreciates her conversation. She is on her fourth beer, forcing herself to drink the brusque alcohol that Chakwas and Shepard appear to enjoy. Tali's stream of chatter makes it go down easier. An hour had passed and still she and Shepard hadn't connected. The alcohol dampens any of Liara's disappointment. It's just scientific curiosity, she tells herself. She won't talk or think about her. "Commander Shepard mentioned that you thought this ship was too quiet." Liara looks around, listening to the hum of the Tantalus Core, watching its slow, hazy spins. "Not only that but quarians are generally thought of as communal. I would have thought you'd stay at the party longer."

"When there's nothing to drink?" Tali asks. Liara can't see her face but she takes a small pleasure from the smiles she hears in her voice. "Unfortunately for me and other quarians, the Citadel isn't very fond of us. I'm not surprised they didn't have a selection of quarian alcohol after what C-Sec put me though. I thought they were going to make me remove my suit before I entered just to make sure I hadn't stolen anything." Liara imagines that she's rolling her eyes. "Anyway… I heard the commander mention that you were supposed to 'get hammered' but you weren't drinking. Not only that but asides from Engineer Adams not many of the crew talks to me…"

"I would say that's their loss." She has a drink, her face flush but she's unsure if it's from her words or the drink.

Tali mumbles something that Liara can't hear and scratches at the back at her neck bashfully. "Anyway, if we're making generalizations, aren't asari supposed to be perfect hostesses?"

Liara laughs mirthlessly. "I feel so foolish. It was Commander Shepard's intention to get me inebriated though I can't determine for what purpose." Tali shrugs. "What do you think of her?"

"What do I think…? Humans have a great deal of respect for her and everyone who knows about her is smart enough to fear her. Shepard has been kind to me when others haven't. She helped me with Fist and believed me about Saren… It's not every day a quarian earns respect outside of our own. Especially from the first human Spectre. She's going to help me with my pilgrimage. I…don't know if that answers anything, really." She turns away from her to stare at the Tantalus Core.

Liara nods at the words in agreement, or appreciation. She isn't sure which; she and Tali haven't had the same experience with the commander. She has a drink of beer, her thoughts in disarray. Every time she thinks she's on the brink of catching hold of one it eludes her. She would like to ask what Tali thinks will happen with Benezia or what she the crew thinks about her. Instead she blurts out: "Does Shepard like me?" She's mortified. No, that isn't what she meant to ask. She meant to ask if Shepard finds her reliable, trustworthy, relevant… She did not mean 'like' in that sense. "That is…" she comes up empty. The alcohol is a detriment! Look at her, asking questions as if she were a little girl of forty!

Tali looks at her apprehensively. "The commander doesn't really talk to me about those kinds of things."

"What do you talk about?"

Tali shuffles. "My pilgrimage and... geth. I don't know. Little things. Isn't it that way with you?" Liara gives a shake of her head. It hasn't been her experience that Shepard talks about anything except business with her. "Anyway, I do think that if the commander _didn't_ like you, she'd give you a bullet between the eyes, not throw you some party to over-drink. Speaking of which…" she cocks her head to the entrance of the engine room.

Liara looks, pushing away from the small railing in the engine room and nearly losing her balance in the process. Tali reaches out a hand to steady her and Liara looks at her gratefully, despite the embarrassment she feels at having lost her footing. Shepard goes to them and Liara returns a hand to the railing, trying to find a suitable topic of conversation. She's being overzealous. Perhaps the commander will only want Tali or to say hello. In which case she might say 'okay' or 'hello' in return. Yes. It's simple, really. She tries to figure out how best to hold her beer to make it seem natural and not as if it were a flask of acid she holds.

"It's not good policy to go AWOL at the small celebration your commander throws," Shepard says to the two of them. Tali offers a quick apology for kidnapping Liara but Liara can't find anything to say. "Downtime is rare. It'll do everyone some good to try to relax while they can. I expect you two to report back right away. Don't think I forgot you, Tali. There's a few bottles of turian alcohol you're free to help yourself to until we can get our hands on the real stuff. Garrus could use a drinking partner and someone to help him bitch about the lack fine cuisine."

Tali laughs softly. "That's very thoughtful, Shepard. I suppose I can't say 'no' to the commander's orders, especially if it involves alcohol." She nods. "See you two upstairs."

Liara looks after her desperately, reaching out to try and keep her close, seeing her as the savior to prevent her from saying something moronic in front of the commander. She grasps on to nothing and then Tali's gone.

Shepard circles a hand around Liara's wrist. After hardly a glance all evening she does this. Liara expects her to let go right away but she doesn't. "You're a big girl, T'soni. Don't tell me you can't handle a conversation with me." Liara doesn't know if she can. She can barely formulate a thought. She is too keen on the pressure wrapped around her wrist. Her thoughts are sluggish and dreamy. Shepard moves closer and Liara retreats until her back hits the railing. "Why'd you run off?"

"I didn't think my presence would be missed." She hadn't meant to tell the truth. It would have been wiser to say that she thought the space was too warm.

"You want to talk to me, grow a spine and come find me. I chase criminals across the galaxy, not women across ships." Her voice is edgy but she smiles as she says the words. Once again, Liara can't tell if the commander is toying with her. "Not once I've caught them, anyway." The grip on Liara's wrist loosens and Shepard trails her fingers down Liara's arm. Liara's heart pounds. "Didn't figure you for a beer girl." Shepard gingerly takes the beer from Liara and sets it aside. Liara hadn't known that Shepard could do anything delicately. Liara stares at the can as it rests uninterestingly on the work station. "Feeling lightheaded yet?"

"Oh, yes. Very much." She looks at her. "I may be inexperienced with…"

Shepard cocks her head to listen, fingers still brushing gently along her arm. "Inexperienced with…?"

Liara can't help staring into her eyes. They are too direct and Liara wants to avert her gaze. She can't. Inexperienced with? Oh, by the Goddess. "Physiology…" Liara says questioningly. "No." No, that isn't what she meant to say.

"No?"

"That is…with drinking," she says, somewhat in a daze. "But…I'm quite familiar with the biological impact of… I understand…" she looks at the shape of Shepard's lips, the way they curl upwards in subtle fashion. What had she been saying? "…that quite well." What quite well?

"Mh." Shepard's fingers graze along Liara's.

Liara is distracted and frustrated though she can't figure out why. Why couldn't the Prothean Beacon have touched someone sensible? "By the Goddess, what in the world do you mean by that?" she asks, agitatedly. She wants to reach out for her beer and take another drink, hoping to gain courage or calm. "How am I to decipher what you mean by your non-words?"

"This from the woman who hasn't made a bit of sense all night. You asari are too preoccupied with words and not enough with action. But… it looks like you have a bit of fire in you after all. You ought to drink more often."

"I—" she's humiliated. What is she thinking talking back to the commander like that? It isn't Shepard's fault that she's awkward and shy around others and incapable of understanding the simplest of communication. Or that she has a low tolerance for alcohol. "It was not my intention to…"

Shepard lights a hand on the railing behind her and steps in. Strands of her hair brush Liara's neck. Liara feels Shepard's breath, gloriously warm in the cool of Engineering, on her skin. "Come back to the party, Liara." Shepard murmurs. "I promise I'll try to pay more attention to you." A soft chuckle and she's withdrawn again, returning the beer gently to Liara's hand. She smirks and turns away. "Don't make me wait too long."

Liara watches her go and gulps the beer down, unsure if it's the drink or Commander Shepard that makes her dizzy.


	4. Light

A/N: Thanks to T.A.M. for proofing. And sorry this is so late! Ah, life. Garrus, as promised, though not as much of him as maybe some would like. This story is moving slowly but surely... thanks for your patience, thanks for your lovely reviews. You guys rock. This chapter is not as chipper as the others.

* * *

Garrus' gaze shifts from mildly indifferent to coolly analytical. In some ways it isn't altogether different from Shepard's gaze; Liara knows when she's being sized up. They're at the Citadel again. Liara wonders who might have occupied the space before the asari discovered it, deserted. Perhaps the Protheans? No, that's too fantastical…

"Something on your mind, Liara?" Garrus asks. Liara looks up at him. They're leaning on the bridge that crosses over to the financial district. Liara is still unused to the elegance of the space; even the Normandy is a big step up from the ruins Liara is accustomed to…though it isn't preferred. "It's just that you look distracted. Is it your mother?" Liara shakes her head slowly. "I don't mean to pry. I can't say I'd want to talk about my old man, either." He hangs his long arms over the bridge and looks around furtively. He keeps his gaze in one solid direction. "Have you ever met her? The Consort, that is. I've always heard of her but I was C-Sec, nothing I could ever afford. I guess being a Spectre does have its advantages."

"A Spectre?" Liara considers. "Is she involved with Saren?" she has read some of the data logs from the Normandy from before she came aboard. "Unless you meant Nihlus. What happened on Eden Prime was unfortunate. That poor man."

"No, no, I wasn't referring to either one of them." He looks at her for a long time and then he blinks and turns his head away. "I've said too much."

"I hardly know what you're talking about." Liara has never seen a turian look so sheepish as Garrus does. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, talons scratching lightly. "I don't know how you might have said too much," she prods.

"Well, it's just that… The Commander has the honor of being one of the few to enjoy the Consort's company. Maybe being a Spectre doesn't always mean walking into a pile of shit. The Consort is known for many things: advice and poetry being some of them but not all. I've never cared too much for poetry," he adds quickly, "too abstract and open for interpretation. I prefer clear lines. Shepard and I are similar that way."

"I'm afraid I still don't understand…" she trails away and thinks of the Consort. She's heard of Sha'ira. She's heard of what people pay for even a small piece of her time. "Oh." She trips over the word. "Oh, I see." Her face nearly goes purple from embarrassment. To think that she'd gone on and on about asari culture to the commander and she'd listened as if she'd never heard a word of it. Was she placating her? Or…

Garrus clears his throat. "I'm sure Shepard's not there now," he says as if to reassure her. Liara is too mortified to be reassured. She thinks of the commander with another asari and feels like a child again. Well. She supposes she still is one. It's never really bothered her until now.

* * *

Liara minimizes the window on the monitor as soon as the hiss of the door alerts her to a presence. She looks back quickly but fails to confirm who it might be before making sure that the window is properly minimized. It is. Shepard's voice rocks Liara to her feet. She nearly knocks her coffee over but catches it this time.

"Shepard—" Liara stammers her name, praying to the Goddess that the commander won't know that she's just been doing research on her. What is the matter with her? She should be researching Protheans, not the first human Spectre. What could have possessed her to do such a thing? She thinks of Sha'ira and flushes again with embarrassment. Hasn't Shepard flirted with her before or was she only imagining things? What would she want with her when she's been with someone like Sha'ira… or… perhaps the commander does appreciate poetry. But she doubts it. "You have a habit of sneaking up on me."

"Announcing my presence ruins the surprise," she says, cocking a grin. "More Prothean research?" She looks behind Liara at the computer. "You can't spend all your time locked up in this office. Didn't anyone teach you to play nice with others?"

"With all due respect, Commander, the same could be asked of you." Liara now knows why they call her the Butcher of Torfan; a chilling name to be sure but one that appears to be well-earned. Can she question the commander's methods? The woman is ruthless, unnecessarily so. So why is she so intrigued by her? Shouldn't she be appalled? "You have…quite a reputation."

"You've been spying on me." Shepard says jovially, joking. Liara's heart nearly slams into Shepard regardless. "I make it a point not to be nice. I wouldn't be very good at my job if I were. Speaking of…" she says looking upward for a scant moment as the Normandy experiences some particularly heavy turbulence. Liara's coffee crashes to the floor. Liara sighs inwardly and makes a mental note to use something not so inclined to breaking or spilling. "We'll be landing in Port Hanshan, soon. What do you say about getting off this ship and maybe seeing some real action?"

"I'm more at home in a laboratory," and more so in remote areas, "but of course I will go if that is what you wish."

"I need to see you in a real fight. The geth are everywhere. You said you'd help us fight Saren. But if you're useless in a fight you're no good to us and I need to know right away."

Liara bites her tongue. She is stupidly hurt by Shepard's words. Would it kill her to learn a little asari diplomacy? Well… in these times, in the situations she experiences it very may well. However, that doesn't lessen the sting of what she's said. Hasn't she shown Shepard that she is capable in battle? Perhaps she hadn't. She isn't a soldier or a mercenary like the others, only a scientist.

"You look as if I've killed your puppy." Shepard says lightly, perhaps sheepishly. Liara wonders if Shepard indeed knows what that looks like on someone. Perhaps she would kill a puppy. Shepard claps her arm on Liara's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "Suit up, Liara. Show me what you're made of."

Liara moves to take Shepard's hand away. Their fingers brush. For an instant it seems as if they are holding hands. And then Shepard is gone, the slam of the door shutting all light away and leaving Liara in the darkness.

* * *

Liara can't get enough air into her lungs. Every breath is a punishment. There isn't enough room in her lungs. Is she breathing too loudly? The Mako is loud. The storm outside the vehicle is violent. Snow cakes the windows. Visibility is nil. Kaidan looks at her and says something to Shepard about the path.

Shepard responds, her voice muffled by her helmet, face hidden. Her gloved fingers are circled around the steering wheel of the Mako. Liara wishes she could see her face. All she can feel is the cold and the sharp jostling of the Mako when they hit a particularly icy patch of ground. The wind is howling.

"We're nearly back at the NDC," Kaidan says to her. He sounds sympathetic. Lieutenant Alenko is a kind man.

Liara has no words. She looks out the window. All she can see is white, hazy light. Her mother had seen none.

* * *

It isn't until they return to the Normandy that some of the numbness ebbs away. Liara's body throbs painfully. It hurts to move her arms. Her jaw feels as if it's been dislocated. Perhaps it was due to some of the work of the asari commandos. Or perhaps it had been her mother. All of it had gone by in a blur and she has found she has little time to think in combat.

Could anything have been done to avoid it? Could anything have been done to save her mother? She doesn't know. She'll never know. She steps off the Mako and pulls her helmet away. Condensation, heat or tears have fogged it. She wipes her forehead.

Some good has come of this. She knows. The rachni have been saved and they've learned of the insidiousness that is indoctrination. They know about the Mu-Relay. Her mother had not helped Saren… not intentionally. Her plan had been brave. Liara refuses to believe it had been foolish.

Why had she spent so much time on dig sites instead of with her mother? None of the usual reasons make sense anymore. Guilt gnaws at her, swallowed by sorrow. Could she have fought faster, better? More questions accost her until she is left helpless.

She has barely stepped into the med-bay when the tears fall, scalding and fast, much to the surprise of Dr. Chakwas and her injured soldier.

* * *

To think that not long ago she was fretting about Commander Shepard having been intimate with Sha'ira. Where are her priorities? Shepard's love life, while annoyingly intriguing, is not going to help anyone stop Sovereign or Saren or indoctrination. She thinks of the sickness that controlled her mother and is sickened. If someone like her can be taken, so strong, determined and pure, what chance does anyone else have?

She wonders about her 'father'. Does her mother's partner know? Is she alive to know? Would she care? Liara knows why she thinks of her now that her mother has passed but doesn't see the sense in it. She has never cared to know her, whoever her 'father' was. Or maybe she's only being negative and something else happened. Regardless, there's no point in thinking of it now.

It is difficult to get up in the morning. She is slipping into a depression that crushes all her energy. Only her work motivates her; only Shepard's expectation keeps her going. There is nothing to grieve, she tells herself. At least her mother had died as she lived. She had been herself. There is that.

She has barely prepared for the day, her thoughts in disarray, when Shepard arrives, a tray of food in hand. Liara sees what appear to be scrambled eggs with hash browns and a glass of orange juice. "It's not guaranteed to taste good," Shepard says, "but it ought to be quieter than the mess hall."

Liara manages a small smile. Shepard had checked up on her after the incident with her mother. She hadn't said much of anything but she'd listened to her. Liara believes Shepard was worried though she hadn't admitted any such thing. "This will only encourage my bad habits. You've always said I spend too much time in here, Commander. "

"You do. And if it were any other soldier I'd tell you go get your ass out to the mess hall and buck up." She sets the tray down on the desk, pushing it away from the corner with the tip of her finger. "But you're not a soldier. I haven't been fair to you, treating you as if you were one."

"We're on a mission, Commander. I promised you I would do what it takes. It would be unfair to the others if you gave me preferential treatment." She comes closer to look at the food. She speaks to it. "Not—not that you give me preferential treatment."

They're quiet. Shepard appears to be looking at the utensils. Liara wonders if Shepard is still angry with her for having looked into her service history without asking. Why hadn't she asked? Something about the commander gives her butterflies in her stomach. Is it normal to always feel so nervous around her? "How are you doing?" Shepard finally asks.

"You don't need to keep asking."

"I know." Shepard says too sharply, her brow knitting with what might be regret or might only be further consternation. Liara isn't sure. She sits on the edge of the desk. "I have to make sure that the crew is prepared for the mission both physically and mentally."

"I still have a few bruises," Liara admits, most of them hidden under her clothing, "but nothing serious. Dr. Chakwas is no slouch." Liara isn't sure if she's hovering near her desk chair, breakfast or Shepard. "Your concern then is… professional?" Is she disappointed? Liara wonders if the particular feeling of a boulder in her stomach is the persistent discomfort of her mother's death or something more.

Shepard trails her thumb over Liara's jaw line. The lethargy Liara has been experiencing is the only thing that keeps her from jumping. She grimaces lightly at the pain that flares from Shepard's touch. She's lightheaded again. Her mixed feelings are incompatible. "I could say that it was professional concern but I'd be lying."

Liara wonders if she's heard Shepard properly. "Then…" Liara reflects on their last conversation. It had been hurried and she'd been grief-stricken, saying awful, awkward things. What had she been thinking bringing her feelings for Shepard to the forefront? Is that how it had happened? Maybe her mother's death had left her scrambling to think about anything else. Shepard is silent. _Is_ Shepard lying? "Lieutenant Alenko is a good man." Shepard looks at her. "And a good soldier. Any misconceptions I had about humans have largely been righted by him." Shepard's eyebrows narrow gently. "Ah—and you too, of course. I think that goes without saying. Goddess. You must think—"

"Why are you bringing up Lieutenant Alenko?"

Liara moves her lips soundlessly. Her body is overwhelmed by nervous energy. Where she had felt sluggish and lifeless before she now has difficulty standing still. "I've seen how he looks at you." And he isn't the only one. Sometimes she imagines that Tali looks at Shepard in much the same way. Is she paranoid? Shepard is brash but attractive and capable, stern and decisive. Who wouldn't be interested in her?

"I'm much more interested in how you look at me."

"Oh."

"And how I look at you." Shepard takes Liara's elbow; in one fluid motion she has brought her closer. Liara's cheeks darken. She's dizzier than before. "You're always buried in research and making observations. Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"I thought – I might have noticed…" she stammers. "I hoped… Commander…that it wasn't my imagination. But…"

"But…?" she doesn't let go. "You said we had a connection. Was that grief talking?"

"Please don't misunderstand me," she says quickly. "I am attracted to you. I think about you more than I should. At first I had hoped it was because of your connection to the Prothean beacon. My interest has not been professional either." Shepard says nothing. "I am sorry, Commander. It's the reason why I can't help but say odd things around you or trip over my words. But… I don't understand you. You are like no one I've ever met before and it's… frightening."

Shepard smiles. "If I was like anyone you'd met before you wouldn't be interested."

"I don't understand you all of the time. I don't understand how you make decisions. Most of the time I have no clue as to what you're even thinking. Half of the time I can't tell if you're teasing me or if you find me disdainful. You can be…cold, Commander."

Shepard lets her go. She stands. "I care about you, Liara. Don't think for a minute that I would tell you otherwise if it wasn't true."

"You claim to care for all of your crew. But often it feels as if you throw a caveat onto every statement you make. It's as if you don't want anyone to think that they could be more than a soldier or instrument…" Liara watches Shepard cross her arms. "It is not my intention to make you angry. Only to state my opinion."

"Noted." Shepard purses her lips. She tilts her head back for a moment before massaging her neck. Liara is horrified when she moves her own hand to the back of Shepard's neck to massage slightly. Shepard's hand drops back to her side. She doesn't push Liara away. Her skin is warm. "You've been through a lot lately."

"I'm not the only one. Commander…" her fingers continue to knead the flesh of Shepard's tense neck, "what were your parents like?"

"I thought you poked around in my service history."

"Everything from when you enlisted in the Alliance, yes," she admits bashfully, her face heating again, "but anything before that is a blank. I know I spoke of the obligations my mother had and the expectations that were there for me. With everything that's happened… with you… I'm curious. I'm curious about everything," she says wishing that she hadn't, "but that most of all. My mother was a great influence, despite how much I wanted to do the opposite of what she did."

Shepard shrugs. "I don't have any sentimental stories about my parents. I don't know who they were, what they were. What they would think of me if I did. I was an orphan. Still am," she adds with a wry smile. "Got into a lot of trouble as a kid, did a lot of the things I kill people for doing these days. Enlisted before I became another body and someone who was bigger and tougher took me out. It's funny how that all swings back around. If anyone wants to point a finger for the way I turned out they'd have to start with me. There was no one else."

"I'm sorry, Shepard."

"I'm not. To have to go through what you're going through right now? I got off lucky. Unfortunately for you… I don't always have the right words or say the right thing." She looks away for only an instant and then takes Liara's hand, holds on to it for a moment. "This morning has gotten away from me."

"Please don't apologize."

"Wasn't going to." She allows another small smirk. "I meant to bring you breakfast and have a conversation without anyone else around." She looks down at the plate, "But your food has gone cold…and I'm not entirely sure how well the conversation has gone. I guess that depends on you."

"Oh." Liara looks at the food. She has a sip of the juice for courage. It's lukewarm. She sets it down. "To be honest…"

"You aren't, usually?"

"Must you tease me at every turn?" Liara asks. Shepard smiles. Liara decides to forgive her of all teasing. It's worth it to see the tension slip from her face, to see her eyes brighten. It's only when she smiles that Liara realizes how haunted Shepard's expression typically is. Liara clears her throat. "As I was saying… I am glad that we had this talk, Commander. But there is so much going on… so much to process… I do… I do want to be with you," she forces the words through and is surprised and relieved when the galaxy doesn't implode, "but I need some time. I have accepted what has happened… but I am still… distracted. And there are other things that we should focus on."

"You're shooting me down."

"N-no!" Liara waves her hands, feels ridiculous for doing so, for being so emphatic and flamboyant. A simple 'no' would have sufficed. "I only mean…"

"That you're not ready. I get it. I'm going to take a chance and say that's a 'no' to anything casual, too." Shepard cocks her head as she studies her. Liara's mind goes blank. Is Shepard teasing her again? Perhaps giving her a carte blanche on all teasing was unwise. The Commander will be the death of her at this rate. "You don't strike me as the casual type."

Liara doesn't dare tell Shepard just how true that is. "I just like to wait for things to be right. Or—or not right," she says, "I prefer to make informed decisions."

"Unlike us bullying, thoughtless humans?" Shepard shakes her head with a flicker of a smile, but how kind or unkind it may be Liara is unsure. Is she teasing again? "I live in the moment. You wait for anything in this world to be 'right' and you're going to be waiting a damned long time. I'm not keen on wasting my time."

"I—I'm not asking you to wait—"

"Good. I'm not the kind to sit on my ass for anything. Not even you." She touches the tray of food. "Eat. You need to keep your energy up."

Shepard turns to exit and Liara lurches forward, terrified of the idea of Shepard leaving. Shepard turns, hearing her movement. They're close. Liara can see too clearly the scar that runs through Shepard's eyebrow, that cuts through her chin. What other hidden scars does she have? Liara is possessed by the desire to kiss those scars, to kiss her smirking, teasing mouth. What's wrong with her? Didn't she just tell Shepard everything was moving too quickly? She is unused to experiencing lust. How bothersome and inappropriate at this time. "I don't want you to leave angry," Liara says breathlessly. She is unaware of how she wrings her hands. "It's… I've explained to you before… I'm not as… experienced in these matters. You're not just any person, not just any human. You're Shepard, the first human Spectre."

"Thanks for the reminder." She says dryly. "I'm just Shepard, Liara. I'm no martyr. You know that. Don't use whatever you're projecting onto me as an excuse to hold back."

Liara winces at the words. Once again, she feels helpless. She doesn't know how to say again that she's scared, that she's afraid of what it all might mean or how she fears it might mean too much to her and not enough to Shepard. "I'm not…"

"I can't figure you out. Sometimes I look at you and I think that all you want is to have me near. To have me touch you." Shepard says. Liara meets her gaze for only seconds before she fidgets and looks away with embarrassment. Yes. That is true. "And sometimes I think you only see the Butcher of Torfan."

"That's not true." Is it? She doesn't always agree with Shepard but it doesn't mean that she sees her only as a monster with no depth to her. "You've made difficult decisions that I wouldn't make."

"I've saved a lot of lives."

"And thrown others away."

"I've gotten the job done."

"At what cost?"

"Mh." She lifts her hand to Liara's face. Liara moves her face against it, craving her warmth, despite the argument they may be having. Maybe she's the terrible one giving Shepard mixed signals. Shepard lowers her voice. She manages to sound soft and feral at the same time. "Ask me to stay, Liara."

Liara looks at Shepard. She can't still her heart. "Is that an order?" She doesn't know if she wants it to be.

"No." Shepard says. Liara closes her eyes. She pulls away. Shepard lowers her arm back to her side. "No hard feelings, T'soni." She turns away. The door to her office hisses open. White pale light floods into her office, making Shepard into a black shadow. "By the way… good job on Noveria. I never wanted it to play out that way… but you made—You made us proud."

Shepard departs and once again all light is cut away. Liara is left in the darkness, counting questions, counting shadows.


	5. Diplomacy

A/N: Ah, work! It slows me down. My lack of voracious reading is evident in this latest chapter that is dialogue heavy. I promise that next chapter will be better. Thanks to T.A.M. for reminding me that 'holding things on the ceiling' can be referred to as 'handles' and informing me that telepathize is a word! Also naming the chapter. I finished ME1 yesterday so I am ahead of the story... Whoops. Hopefully next chapter I can close ME1 out and start on the journey to ME2. Not sure if it'll be strictly Liara then or if it might be some Shep pov too. Unsure. This is way too long. I might have to drop the 'humor' from the category in this. I don't know that there's any in this chapter. Who else is excited that ME3 is right around the corner? And oh yes, thanks for the reviews, dear ones! Ever so encouraging and a good guilt trip if I ever need to haul ass on a story.

* * *

Shepard's fingers aren't strong enough to puncture the helmet she holds. It could be that she's only holding back. Liara doesn't know whether to be grateful. She had never anticipated having to take on a biotic commune. The fighting had been…difficult. Shepard's reunion with Major Kyle was short-lived but brutal.

Liara looks at Ashley; the gunnery chief's white hard-shell armor is dotted with flecks of blood. The violence with which Ashley handles her shotgun is an art, one that Shepard admires.

Ashley is restless, having fidgeted in the Mako while awaiting pick-up by the Normandy. Once the hatch to the Normandy is fully closed, Ashley jams the door to the Mako open. She pauses to look at Liara warily and then to Shepard. The commander's jaw is clenched tightly but she remains immobile.

"Mind giving us a minute, T'soni?"

Liara is jarred from her thoughts. Ashley seldom addresses her. The request is more of a directive. Liara had been hoping to speak to Shepard herself. They've not spoken much since Liara requested some time to consider any involvement with the Commander. They've been busy but Liara is worried that it's more than that. Now Shepard appears uncharacteristically… flappable. Liara had hoped to be there for her.

Shepard rises as best as she can in the enclosed space, grabbing onto one of the handles on the ceiling. "You're free to go," she tells Liara. Liara parts her lips to protest but only nods weakly and exits.

"How are you doing, Skipper?"

Liara is unused to the softness of Ashley Williams' voice. She hadn't known that the woman had it in her, just as she had not known that Shepard could be vulnerable. The door to the Mako shuts. Liara stares, waiting for her own opportunity to speak to Shepard but loses track of minutes and eventually exits to her cabin.

* * *

Liara looks through the decrypted Prothean data wracking her brain for a path to find and stop Saren. It has been hours like this and she is no closer to solutions. She's worried about Shepard. The Commander doesn't strike her as one for pettiness. They haven't spoken. It's possible that Shepard has moved on and forgotten about her. She takes her on missions but is all business.

Liara misses the days when Shepard would stop by for conversation. Has she been too cautious with her? She leaves her office and goes out into the mess hall. It's late and most of the crew is sleeping. She hopes to find Shepard but holds little hope for seeing her at this hour.

She's pleasantly surprised. Shepard, Kaidan, Wrex and Garrus are gathered around a meal table, bottles of alcohol and shot glasses cluttered around as they throw down cards. Wrex looks as if he's scowling but Liara doesn't know if he's ever been known to have another expression on his face. Kaidan barely contains a smile. Garrus is unreadable. Shepard's smile is cocky. Liara is reassured to see it and steps closer. Shepard's smile falters upon spotting her though it returns just as quickly as it had disappeared.

Kaidan nods, holding his cards downward but not as carefully guarded as the others. "Want in next deal? The Commander's wiping us out. I don't know about the rest of these guys but I'd like to keep a few creds in my account."

"Shepard's not the only one cleaning you out," Wrex grouses, his teeth bared in what Liara suspects is a grin. "You're lucky you aren't playing with some of the other mercs I've worked with throughout the years. They would have torn you to pieces by now."

"You ugly sons-of-bitches killing one of the better looking Alliance soldiers? That'd be a waste," Shepard pours and takes a shot of blue alcohol.

Kaidan stares at Shepard. Liara doesn't think the hint of red that comes to his cheeks is imagined. Her own cheeks flush and she mentally kicks herself for possibly sabotaging any standing she might have gained with Shepard.

"There's no accounting for taste," Wrex shakes his head.

"That's awfully nice of you to say, Commander." Kaidan says with a bright smile. He appraises his cards, seemingly torn before tentatively setting one down.

"So what do you say, Liara?" Garrus throws down a card with apparent little care for what the outcome might be or any flirtation that may be happening around him. "You in next round?"

"No," Wrex pushes a stack of chits out onto the table and plays a card with particular satisfaction, "keep her out of the game. She works better as a distraction for the humans."

"We can hear you, you know," Kaidan looks quickly to Liara and then down at the cards on the table. Liara wonders if her face has gone purple from embarrassment. Perhaps she should have stayed in her office. "Whose play is it anyway?"

"Mine," Shepard flicks her card to the table to a resounding audible groan by the other men. "Game over." She gets to her feet but doesn't bother collecting any of the chits in front of her. "As for T'Soni, she's not the gambling type. Isn't that right?" And for the first time in days, Shepard looks right at her.

Liara is taken aback. The men watch for only a moment before falling into disgruntled conversation with one another regarding the results of the card game. Shepard turns away, not allowing Liara to respond. Liara unintentionally follows, rounding the corner to the elevator and following further until she's at Shepard's doorway. Shepard stops so abruptly that Liara runs into her back. She mutters a quick apology. If Shepard was ever charmed by her awkwardness she no longer is. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. Her smile isn't even kind. "Thinking of joining me for a 'nightcap'?"

"A nightcap?" Liara says. Oh. Perhaps she ought to. Is that what Shepard wants? She can't imagine entering Shepard's room to share a drink and nothing more. "Commander, might we talk?" She takes Shepard's silence as a go ahead. "I've been thinking about you. And everything that has happened… on the last mission with Major Kyle."

"What's this, T'soni? You're looking to debrief me?"

"N-no. That isn't my place."

"You're damn right it isn't."

"I've been… I've been concerned. Worried. You seemed—"

"Don't. Just don't. You're on this ship for your Prothean knowledge and the fact that you aren't half bad on the field. Don't overstep your boundaries. Don't fill your head with anything that doesn't pertain to your job. That's an order." She turns around and walks into the room. Liara unthinkingly enters after her. The doors shut behind her before she realizes what she's done. She takes in the space. It's tidy with little indicators of the person who inhabits it. Liara doesn't know whether it's military regulation or the Spectre who occupies the room that keeps it so bare. "Sneaking in? You're not any good at it. This is like the start of a bad vid."

"Bad vid…?" Liara tries to think of what vids Shepard might mean. She must refer to pornographic videos on the extranet with the ludicrous storylines. It takes every reserve to not cough and stammer or worst yet, lose herself in any idle imaginings. "I'm afraid I'm not talented in the ways of… infiltration. As you've already noticed." Liara takes another step closer. Shepard doesn't go to her but neither does she back away. Her gaze is cold and somewhat reserved. "You haven't visited me in some time. I miss your visits and conversation. I hope that isn't too forward to say."

"You told me you needed time to think. I'm giving it to you."

"But that doesn't mean that we can't talk at all." She shakes her head lightly. "How are you dealing with everything? Seeing Major Kyle again must have been…" Liara doesn't know how Shepard might see it. The confrontation hadn't afforded her the time to study Shepard's face in detail. "He was once your commanding officer."

"Something else you found out while poking around in my records?" Shepard asks caustically. She moves away from Liara and enters into the bedroom, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "Or did Kyle's 'Butcher of Torfan' thing give it all away?"

"He was at Torfan, too."

"Your point?"

"It must have been… difficult for him." Liara says. Shepard gives no audio or visual response. Liara consciously moves steadily closer. "As it must have been for you."

"We _survived._ Humanity _won_ that battle. I'd do it all the same. Fuck the batarians. They'll think twice before trying a stunt like the Skyllian Blitz again. The only good batarian is a dead batarian." Shepard, sitting only moments ago, gets to her feet. She takes several steps to the left and then several to the right.

Liara waits. She doesn't believe that Shepard actually feels that way but won't argue with her. Not now. "You're pacing."

Shepard stops pacing. Liara thinks of the woman on the Mako, holding on to her helmet. What had Ashley said to her? Had she been able to say the right thing or offer any comfort? Perhaps Liara is only needlessly agitating her. "Kyle lost his mind. Reduced to a cultist lunatic. It's pathetic. _He's_ pathetic."

"You're surprised that he reacted in that way?"

"In battle soldiers die. You can't handle that, you don't join the Alliance, you don't participate in war."

"It's not that easy for everyone, Shepard. War takes a toll on everybody. Some are just stronger than others. _You're_ stronger than almost anyone. Don't judge him by what you can endure." She's close now. Shepard's eyes narrow on a plaque of war medals on the wall. Liara touches her face cautiously and turns it so that Shepard faces her. "Was what happened on Torfan worth the cost?"

"I can't give you quantifiable proof that it's saved more lives than we lost if that's what you're asking for but I know that it has."

"I just wonder if you're as sure about it all as you make it sound." Liara knows she ought to stay quiet when Shepard shoots her a deadly glare but she can't help herself. "Why else would you be so torn up about all of this? Actions have consequences. Major Kyle is evidence of that. You ridicule his weakness but don't think that you're impervious to what happens. I see you, Shepard. I can see you struggling with all of this. It isn't wrong. Your emotions can be an asset. Don't lock them away. It doesn't only have to be anger that you feel. He was your commanding officer. You have a right to be upset."

"I'm really tired of this conversation."

"Or perhaps it's me that you're tired of." Liara drops her hand away from Shepard's face. She stands uncomfortably, unsure of where to go from now. Is it Shepard's enigma that makes her so compelling? The Commander is infuriating but all Liara wants is to unravel and spend time with her. Does the Commander even like anyone? Shepard had told her that she cared. Does she? Was it a ploy to get her into bed? Why does she only confuse her more by the day?

Shepard picks up a data pad. "I've got work to do, T'soni."

"It's late."

"Then you'd best get to bed."

"Shepard—"

" _Dismissed."_

Liara swallows the lump in her throat. "Yes, Commander."

* * *

Her head is throbbing. Joining minds with Shepard is an exhilarating and tiring process. She is woozy. The task of taking a bombardment of nonsensical imagery and attempting to turn it into something identifiable leaves her fatigued. She is no closer to discovering Saren's location or the fate of the Protheans. Moreover, Shepard is quickly losing patience with her. She has offered to join minds with Shepard but to what end? Shepard no doubt finds her weaker than she did before.

Liara sighs softly at the situation. Will they run out of time? Will Saren's nefarious plans only be uncovered when it is too late? She considers indoctrination and the massive creature on Feros. She secretly mourns the loss of the Thorian. To think that a magnificent creature that has lived so long and known so much, can simply not be anymore… It's tragic. The Commander wouldn't agree.

Liara thinks of her mother. The Shiala woman had been a follower, one of the brave who had risked her life to stop Saren's plot. Like Benezia, Shiala had ultimately failed and fallen victim to Saren and indoctrination. At least she was left with her life. Liara groans inwardly. If only she could understand the images of the blasted Cipher. What good is she as a Prothean expert if she can't even help Shepard with that? All she has gained is Ashley's scorn and Shepard's opinion that she is of little utility.

The door to the cabin opens. Liara looks to Shepard who enters, full of determination. "Anything yet?" It has only been two hours since Liara joined their minds. Liara brings a hand to the desk and rises unsteadily. Liara shakes her head mildly which is all she can manage. The small action causes vertigo. Shepard continues. "What good is this joining of yours if it doesn't help us?"

"I am sorry, Commander. It isn't as simple as you might expect. The images from the beacon are just too…unclear." Liara takes an unsteady breath. "I have been thinking as best as I can. Your mind isn't the easiest place to navigate."

"What does that mean?"

"Trying to understand the ancient knowledge of the Protheans would be difficult under normal circumstances. Trying to find those splintered images amidst everything else that happens in your mind…" Liara sits, resting her hands on her lap. It is logical to not expect a human to be able to telepathize as well as an asari. Strong willed and mentally sound as Shepard may be, there is some crossover in their exchange. Liara sees not only those images given to Shepard by Shiala and the Cipher, she also sees fragments of Shepard's past, of her thoughts, images of bodies scattered, those of friend and foe. Shrapnels of feelings cling to those moments. What would it be like to meld with her? Could she withstand it? What is she thinking? This isn't the time. "Forgive me. I am still tired."

Shepard crosses her arms. "I feel fine."

Liara bites her tongue. The Commander is cocky and bothersome. Still, Liara wishes that she could find common ground with her. In some ways it feels as if she has lost her only friend aboard the Normandy. How is it that the Commander can make her feel lonely?

"I'm glad." Liara says. Just because she's tired there's no reason that the Commander should also be. Shepard has a lot on her mind and carries a great deal of responsibility on her shoulders. Liara doesn't know how to have conversations with her anymore. It was easier when the Commander teased her; it was better then. Liara prefers it to this. "Perhaps in time, Shiala's joining with you will help us understand the Cipher more. I cannot be certain." Shepard looks at her for a long time before turning away. Her gaze is indecipherable. Liara longs to understand her. "Was there anything else, Commander?"

"Joker's set a trajectory for Virmire. There will be some planning to do in the meantime. It won't be long now. Saren's on the move and we're running out of time."

"I wish I could provide more answers. I know you expected more from me. I can fight," she offers tentatively. "Wrex told me that. Can you imagine, a krogan battlemaster like him saying such a thing about me?" her cheeks darken. "Maybe I can help that way," she says more quietly. Shepard is silent. Liara's voice comes more softly still. "I know I've disappointed you."

"You should take a break from the computer. If you're tired, staring into that thing can't be helping." Shepard says as if not having heard her. "Should I have Chakwas check you out?" Liara shakes her head faintly. "I guess you know yourself better than anyone. I'm not expecting Virmire to be easy. You're not coming up with any answers. None of us are," a sliver of frustration shines through in her voice. "You should rest."

"Have you been resting, Commander?" Liara stands again and peers into Shepard's face. Her eyes are darker than usual. "So much has happened quickly. I'm beginning to wonder how much time we have left."

"Not enough."

Liara bites her lip. "Does any of it scare you? Does anything scare you?" Shepard follows her every movement and shift. "I know how the Council questions you. And I know how you cut them off when they ask too many questions."

"It's not my fault if they have a faulty signal."

The smile on Shepard's lips is barely noticeable but there. Liara is happy for it though she knows how it might help Shepard's cause if she could bear dealing with Citadel politics. "You'll prove them wrong when you stop Saren. All the questions and doubts that they have will disappear."

"At this point I really don't give a damn what they think of me and my methods. If I'd listened to them in the first place Saren would have already won." She sighs. "One thing at a time, right?"

"Right… I know I have asked a lot of questions lately. I'm afraid I never know where I stand with you. It's a lot to sift through… all the little…" she trails away not knowing how to say what it is that she means to say. "I never know when you want me to be a scientist or a soldier or… something else, something more. All the norms and mores and customs become tangled in my head until I'm saying something ridiculous again and overstepping my bounds. I wish I knew my place around you, Commander."

"We're on a mission. Your place is to be a soldier." Shepard says. Liara is glad to not flinch at the words. She murmurs some words that she doesn't know. Then Shepard speaks again. "What do you want your place to be?"

"You just said…"

"Focus on what I just asked."

Liara shuffles in place. Her heartbeat is accelerating again. She's a bundle of nerves. Commander Shepard always makes her feel afraid and excited. Is attraction supposed to be so… contradictory? If she'd become an asari commando and not a Prothean expert she would not have met Shepard and had to experience such peculiar feelings. Or she might have met her on the battlefield somewhere. Shepard has not met an asari commando that she hasn't killed. "I want to know you, Shepard. More than I can say." She brings her fingers self-consciously to her cheek. "It is quickly becoming clear to me that no matter how unorthodox I find your methods or you… I am intrigued and attracted…" she laughs awkwardly. "We're on a mission that will determine whether life as we know it will continue. This is the most ludicrous timing."

"Dangerous timing," Shepard offers. Liara nods weakly, knowing it's true. "We can't afford distractions."

Liara nods again. Her fingers brush Shepard's face. She has never considered herself an overly tactile person but Shepard brings out the instinct in her. Shepard's eyes soften at the touch. Liara wonders if she finds it reassuring, if she wants it. "Are you still having nightmares?" About the vision from the Prothean beacon, or Cerberus' recently discovered experiments or so many of the other things that Shepard can have nightmares about. Shepard wraps her fingers around Liara's hands and delicately pulls them away. Liara can't help a tinge of disappointment. "If you ever want to talk about them…"

"I don't." There's a beat. "But thank you."

"Do you ever feel lonely, Shepard?"

Shepard laughs a dry, brittle sound. "I think I'd prefer being dissected to all these questions." Liara doesn't know what face it is that she makes nor is she conscious of the step she takes backward. Shepard follows her, closing any distance that she has created. Liara's back hits the wall. Liara feels the brush of Shepard's uniform against her clothing. She is assailed by a wave of desire. Goddess, what is the matter with her? This is not the time to have these feelings. "When this is all over…" Shepard says.

Liara can't look at her. She keeps her chin ducked, even as Shepard's fingertips graze over her cheeks. She doesn't have the courage to look at her. What would her mother say if she knew how drawn she is to this human Spectre? Probably something about what an exceptional match she'd be, what a contribution it'd be to their race. Oh, but that would mean melding and she's never done that. Not with anybody. She's never thought of doing that with anybody. She's still so young. Why can't she just look at her?

Benezia always told her to meet people's gaze. _How will anyone know what to believe in if you don't meet their eyes, Little Wing?_ Liara lifts her eyes. Shepard's look, breathless and raw with want is enough to melt Liara to goo. She keeps herself together, barely. She is short of breath. "When this is all over…?" Liara prompts.

"I can't wait until this is over." She says the words as if confessing to murder.

Liara's heart lurches in her breast. Shepard's lips touch her own. Fire floods Liara. Lips part and mouths meld together hotly. Liara grabs a fistful of the Commander's shirt; Shepard exhales softly. Everything about the kiss is slow and rough, grazing and deep, soft and bruising, barely there and overwhelming. The cold, hard steel of the wall behind her reminds Liara that this is real.

Liara is still clutching to her shirt when the Commander pulls away, face nestled briefly in Liara's neck before pulling away altogether. Liara releases her shirt and Shepard straightens it, tucking it back under the waist of her pants. She runs a hand through her hair agitatedly.

"Commander…?" Liara is unsure if Shepard already regrets her actions, their actions. Will she consider this a moment of weakness?

Shepard's jaw is clenched tightly. She talks to Liara but doesn't quite look at her. "Liara— I didn't think this through. I've made suggestions that are…unrealistic. There are larger things at stake. What I want doesn't matter. It can't matter. Not now."

Shepard deliberates.

For once, Liara is grateful that diplomacy is Shepard's weakness. In some moments Shepard seems so young. Liara knows what it is Shepard wants to say and doesn't want to give her the opportunity. Was it a game to her in the beginning then? The unexpected outcome for genuine feelings to develop? Is that what has surprised Shepard? Liara's unsure. She won't argue it now. She won't give the Commander the opportunity to have an exit. "Shepard. As enjoyable as that just was… and as much as I welcome your conversation, why don't we put this aside for now? We have our mission to consider and all of this… we can revisit at a later time. After Virmire or… I don't know. Just later."

Shepard looks at her now. Liara can read how conflicted she is. Liara waits for an argument, for Shepard to officially and finally end things between them. Shepard's eyebrows narrow thoughtfully. "All right." She says quietly. No sooner has she said the words then Joker's voice comes over the comm, beckoning her to the bridge. "Duty calls," Shepard says. She seems herself again, sure and unwavering, glad to have any pesky conversation over with. She's a soldier again. "I'll call for you if I need you."

"Of course, Commander."


	6. Sacrifice

A/N: Wow. This is late. Apologies. Thanks so much everyone who has been faving this and alerting and leaving reviews. You have no idea how encouraging that is and it's much, much appreciated. There are tons of reasons that this is late, none AT ALL having to do with the Mass Effect 3 multi-player or replaying ME2. Not at all. Nope. MARCH 6TH! Thanks to T.A.M. for beta-ing this. I will try to get these out more quickly and believe the next few sections should be relatively shorter for obvious reasons. But March 6th is around the corner...

* * *

Liara stumbles onto a moment she shouldn't have. Restlessness moved her to roam the ship, curiosity and humiliation make her stay. She is paralyzed. The ship hums quietly. The Normandy crew is asleep, save for two others.

"This is _war,_ " Shepard says sharply, "and what we're dealing with is Saren, Sovereign and the Reapers. We need _the best:_ the best strategy, the best tools, the best team, the best soldiers. I need someone who won't hesitate to do what's right when the time comes, someone who won't get caught up in emotions, won't hesitate to make the hard decisions and will be a _soldier_ first. I saw that in you in Virmire. Kaidan was a good man and a friend… but he was soft. Soft won't win the battle. We can afford to lose a biotic. We can't afford to lose someone like you."

Liara is horrified. Does Shepard really feel that way? That they have enough biotics? Is that enough of a reason for her to make a decision about who lives or dies? What if it had been her and Ashley? Who would have Shepard saved then? Wrex uses biotics, so does she, so does—did Kaidan. As does Shepard. Kaidan was close to Shepard. Liara shivers.

"Yes, Ma'am." Ashley says. There's a beat. "Commander… permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"I just—with everything that happened on Eden Prime and now Virmire… I really don't know what to make of it. Why am I still alive?"

"You're alive because you're a good soldier. Whatever survivor's guilt you're feeling, Williams, let it go. We can't have emotions holding us down." A silence follows. Liara wonders if hitting the elevator button up would draw too much attention. She's ready to announce herself when Shepard speaks again. "I know this is hard, Ash. This _is_ hard: for all of us. What's done is done. And at the end of the day it was my decision. Don't blame yourself."

"Can't help but to do that, Skipper. Maybe if I'd moved faster you wouldn't have had to come back to get me. That facility had to go. Going out a hero wouldn't have been a bad way to end it all."

"Kaidan died a hero. And before all of this is over you'll have plenty of more opportunities to die the same."

"Any of that make you feel any better about it?" Ashley asks. Seconds pass. "How _are_ you feeling about it all? Been a couple of times I've wanted to tell you to shove it up your ass and let me make the decisions, but times like these… I'm glad I'm the one following orders."

"It may be my job to send soldiers to their deaths for the sake of a mission. It doesn't mean that it ever gets any easier. I don't ever forget their sacrifice. It's up to all of us to remember." She takes a breath. "Good enough for a debrief, Chief?"

"Aye, aye, Commander."

"Get the best rest you can. You won't be getting much more of it from this point on."

Both of their voices are softer, tired. Liara hears footsteps move closer until Shepard is on the elevator to the hanger with her. Liara looks at her cautiously. Shepard is paler than usual, dark shadows under her eyes void of emotion. "I don't like it when people take to eavesdropping," Shepard warns her.

"Forgive me, Commander. It wasn't my intention to intrude."

"But you hung around anyway."

Shepard's voice is missing its usual ire. It's as if she's saying the words for the sake of saying them. Liara has many questions but doesn't ask any of them. She takes Shepard's hand instead. Shepard lets her, though she doesn't acknowledge the action. It is the most intimate moment they have shared despite their kiss of before. When the elevator doors open, Shepard untangles their hands and moves on without another word.

* * *

They're no longer grounded. Shepard told her they'd find their way out of the Citadel and she delivered on that promise. It's been hours since they released the Normandy from the Citadel. The course is set for Ilos. Liara has spoken to the rest of the anxious crew but has not seen Shepard.

She tells herself that she can be meek and wait until everything is over to talk to Shepard or she can find her courage now and speak to her before it's too late. Is she foolish to think that Shepard might need her? Does Shepard need anybody?

She walks into Shepard's room. Shepard sits on the edge of the bed, her hands covering her face. Liara is unsure whether Shepard has a headache or is suffering from some emotional crisis. At this point it could be either one but if she had to place her bets she would bet on the headache.

"Commander?" Liara waits uncertainly by the door. Shepard drops her hands and looks at her. She says nothing and Liara doesn't know why. All this time later Jane Shepard remains an enigma to her. "I had hoped to see you…but I haven't," she finishes weakly. "So much has happened since our first meeting. And now here we are." Liara takes a seat beside her. "Did you ever imagine that I would visit you in this way?"

"I might have imagined it," she says and offers a small wry smile. She rubs her eyes and runs a hand through her hair. Fondness for the commander wells within Liara. As well as a small degree of bashfulness. "How are you feeling, Liara?"

"I do not know how exactly. Frightened and anxious. Worried." They've come too far to fail but civilizations have been extinguished before in wars, by the Reapers. There are no guarantees that this will be any different.

"Don't worry. We're going to get through this."

Shepard looks so tired; the effect makes her appear more organic to Liara. She should not voice her doubts but can't help herself. "Everything is happening so quickly. I worry there are things that I won't get to. All of this makes me feel like a child. There is so much at stake."

"We'll get through it," Shepard says more firmly this time.

"It is not my intent to anger you, Commander. I apologize." She is saying all the wrong things. She is dumping unnecessary stress and doubt on Shepard. How can she be so thoughtless? This is the last thing Shepard needs. "I want to say the right thing once for you, if only once."

"I don't need someone who is rehearsed and perfect at all times."

"With all due respect Commander, isn't that exactly what you need now more than ever?"

"I've got a pretty good idea of what I need, Liara and I like you just the way you are."

Liara is unable to look away from her. Shepard's eyes are bright and focused no matter how tired she may be. "Are… you saying that you need me?" Does Shepard need her? Or does Shepard want her? She doesn't dare ask, loath to think of how she might answer. This isn't the time for games. If nothing else, she does not think that Shepard would lie to her, feeling no sense to spare anyone of a loss of dignity. Nerves cripple Liara but she moves forward. "Shepard… in all my years I've never met anyone like you. I know you may think that I've led a lonely existence… and in some ways I have. I never minded any of that before… but when you aren't near I feel it all the more acutely. I cannot understand it try as I may. Human customs and rituals may continue to confound me…but I am of the feeling that you would remain mysterious to me even if we were of the same race."

"This had better have a good punch line for the lead up."

"This is not a joke to me." Liara narrows her eyes. Shepard's soften. "If it were I wouldn't agonize the way that I do over your every comment or… or every glance. Shepard… I. I…" The words dry in her mouth. Is this it then? The end has come too soon. Will they die? Will they all die? She and Shepard have had so little time together.

"I know." Shepard's hand, callused and scarred touches Liara's face. Liara takes a breath. She holds it. "It's going to be all right. All of it. I promise." Liara's lips part with questions, with doubts, with pleas for assurance. Shepard kisses her. Thoughts shift, emotions soar, everything is tactile, experiences merging, everything burning, eternity embraced.

* * *

Liara is still unused to sleeping over in the Commander's quarters, even if sleeping is all they've been doing since the attack on the Citadel and the end of Saren. If the crew has any opinion about it they've kept it to themselves, save for Joker who can't help but crack a joke now and then. The last time he joked, Shepard threatened to shatter every bone in his body. He doesn't make the jokes as frequently.

Everything is peaceful now—though Liara doesn't know how long the peace will last. She tells herself to take the time to enjoy every moment. Everything and everyone is in transition. There are those on the Normandy, mostly the other non-human races who are in the process of leaving. She will miss them all, Tali and Wrex in particular.

The political climate is in flux. Anderson is the first human council member. Liara thought to take it as an opportunity to discuss policy and diplomacy with Shepard, but whenever Liara has broached the subject Shepard grows bored and changes it. Liara lets it go. They have time to talk. Politics no longer matter as they used to and as far as Liara's concerned, Shepard has learned a little about diplomacy after all: she saved the Council when Liara had not thought she would.

The attack on the Citadel was brutal. The fight with Saren as much so.

The colorful bruises have finally gone from Shepard's face though her fractured, bandaged ribs remain so. She grimaces and tries not to whenever she shifts in the night. Liara's heart aches for her. She strokes Shepard's hair and back when she tosses and turns in her sleep. Shepard has nightmares but not any that she has wanted to discuss.

Now she stirs, turning onto her back. She rubs the sleep from her eyes and looks at Liara, a slow tired smile pulling at her lips. Liara enjoys the way that Shepard looks at her in the morning, as if she is a welcome surprise. "Morning. You haven't been watching me all night, have you?"

Liara blushes. Only part of it. "N—No." she hurries on. "I really think you should let Dr. Chakwas have another look at you," Liara knows that she's fussing and that the ribs will mend in time. She can't help but worry. "You hardly sleep."

"Are you kidding? I put in a solid twenty hours a night for the first few nights after we stopped Saren."

Yes, Shepard had slept a great deal but that is only to be expected given the trauma received and the stress she had been under for so long. It's amazing that she did not break during any of what happened. "That was different and you know it. You're in pain."

"I'm _fine._ And last time I checked I had a doctor of my own to give me a physical."

"That is why I suggest you see—" Liara stops. Oh. Even all this time later she can't help but blush around her. Shepard has become more flirtatious and aggressive since surviving the assault on the Citadel—and Liara is happy for it. She takes Shepard's hand. "That is another reason why you should focus on getting treatment." She grazes her hand along Shepard's ribs before pulling the standard issue shirt back and kissing the hot flesh beneath. "I want to be with you, Shepard."

"You are with me."

"That isn't what—" She stalls before seeing Shepard's wicked grin.

"Come here, you," she pulls Liara closer, "I've handled tougher than you, Dr. T'soni. I'm pretty sure I can survive anything you throw at me."

Liara laughs softly. "I would not be so sure, Shepard. Perhaps I am not so passive as you think." Shepard arches an eyebrow suggestively. Liara gives her a peck on the lips before withdrawing. She may not be as passive as she used to be but she's still shyer than she ought to be. Shepard makes her bolder and meeker in one, a confounding state for sure. "You should know by now that if you injure yourself further it'll be a longer recovery time."

Shepard groans. "Fine. I'll see Chakwas." Liara nods with approval. "Later. But… we've just woken up and there's nothing saying I can't kiss you like the world isn't ready to end."

"Everything you say has such finality to it, Commander—" she bites her tongue. It's still difficult to stop referring to her that way. "Shepard," she corrects. Shepard's arm circles around her waist and draws her near. Liara is careful. They kiss as if their lives depended on it. There's no helping that.

It is just as Shepard said. Everything is going to be okay.

* * *

The door to the barracks is ajar. Curious, Liara enters unsure of what it is that she expects to find. She doesn't expect Shepard. A cardboard box is situated in front of her, half-filled. Shepard folds a shirt, military standard, and sets it gently into the box. Liara is surprised. Shepard is not necessarily delicate with words but she has never been anything but with her. She doesn't know why she's surprised. She steps into the room carefully. "Shepard…" Shepard turns to her, a framed photo in her hand. Liara stands next to her. She doesn't recognize anyone in the picture. "Are you all right?"

Shepard nods. "Kaidan's folks," she shifts the frame gently in her hand. "There hasn't been time before to send his things." She sets the photo into the box. "He didn't have much aboard the Normandy. We can't even send them a body for burial. They'll get an empty coffin from the Alliance." Shepard clutches the box with his items and frowns.

Liara remembers the thing Shepard had said to Ashley when Kaidan had died. She acted so differently then than she does now. Shepard has never spoken about it to her. Liara wonders how much of what she said she even meant. It was only a few weeks ago. "Have you come to terms with what's happened?" Liara asks. She takes Shepard's arm lightly. When Shepard faces her she doesn't look at her. "Jane." Liara touches her face. "Losing him must have been hard."

"I made that decision. I'll live with it."

"How do you make a decision like that? Kaidan was your friend. If it was you… I don't think I could do it. I couldn't do it. I couldn't lose you." The thought sends a shiver down her spine. Even all this time later, the nature of the events that have transpired haven't worn away. Are things still so fragile…? Will they always be? "I never knew you and Ashley were close."

"I can't make decisions about who lives or dies depending on who I'm close to. Alenko was a good soldier. I needed better than 'good'." She shakes her head. "But he deserved better. He deserved more than this," she shoves the box. It moves several inches along the desk.

"You did your best. I'm sure he understood. He knew how important all of this was. Is. He saved countless lives."

Shepard nods. "His father was an Alliance man. And his mom, she was at the wrong place at the wrong time. But without it, Kaidan wouldn't have been an L2. Hell, maybe I never would have met him." Liara lets Shepard talk, not necessarily understanding everything that she says, not knowing much about Kaidan's history but knowing that Shepard needs to say it, needs someone to listen. "Nice thing about being an orphan is not having to worry about who you leave behind." Liara's brow knits. "I've written his family a letter. It says a lot of nice things. But it won't do a goddamn thing to make his family feel any better about the loss of their son."

Liara wraps her arms around her waist, a gentle frown on her face. She doesn't know how to make Shepard feel better. This is all she can do. She rests her face on Shepard's chest. Shepard circles an arm around her shoulders. She brushes a kiss onto Liara's forehead. "I have to finish this," Shepard says quietly. "Did I tell you? The Council wants me to start hunting down pockets of geth throughout space. What a waste of time."

* * *

They're in the med-bay when the attack begins.

The ship swerves violently. Liara stumbles forcefully, nearly hitting the wall before Shepard grabs her arm. They try to find their footing. There are explosions. Liara's heart hammers. The automated emergency system is online. "What's happening?"

"Something's wrong," Shepard says. The lights flicker and dim. It's only been an hour or so since they returned to the Normandy from another geth sweep. Shepard is still in her hard-shell armor but Liara's changed back into her Normandy clothing not anticipating needing to go out so soon. "Suit up," Shepard goes to the door, grabbing her helmet on the way out. Liara sees a ball of flames as the door opens and people shouting. Shepard stops and looks back. "Now, Liara!"

Liara is frozen. The door slams shut behind Shepard. Liara fumbles to get into her armor. When she stumbles out into the hallway everything is dark and red. There's so much noise she can hardly hear herself think. She sees the bodies of the men and women she's fought beside for months littered across the ground. She's momentarily paralyzed once again. She's used to battle. She's used to fighting geth and mercenaries – but not on the Normandy. Not on the inside.

She forces herself to move. Shepard, she needs to get to Shepard. It doesn't take more than a minute to find her but that time feels like forever. Shockwaves tear through the ship. Shepard wears a helmet. Liara holds hers helplessly. It's important to Liara to look at Shepard's face but she can't. Asking now would seem absurd.

"There's Joker," Liara says. It's the only reason she can think to stay for, it's the only reason that might matter to Shepard. The Alliance is coming. Whatever is happening the Alliance will help them. They have to help them.

"I'll grab his crippled ass," Shepard fires back, trying to stabilize a pipe that is threatening to go off. "I need you to get the other survivors and grab an escape pod out of here." Liara doesn't move. Shepard moves toward her so aggressively that were it any other person, Liara would be petrified. Shepard's grip on her arm is strong and it hurts. "I'm counting on you to do this, Liara. There's no time to waste."

"What about you?"

"I'll see you on the other side."

"But Shepard…"

Shepard shoves her back, not particularly gently. "Go."

Shepard goes. Liara moves to the pods, hears herself barking out orders as if she were a soldier before stepping inside and buckling down. The escape pod fires off. The soldiers talk animatedly, excitedly, hysterically but Liara doesn't say a word. What's happening? What is that attacking ship? She's never seen anything like it before.

The Normandy is falling apart. It's falling to pieces, Goddess help them all. Gold rains down the sky, chunks of the burning ship. If it were anybody else she would worry for them. But not Shepard. Shepard will make it out. Shepard will see her on the other side and once they do… then… then…

The attack ship moves around for another round, moving faster than Liara knew a ship could move. Liara watches helplessly as the Normandy is cracked in half. There's a detonation. It happens silently but the force of it slams into the shuttle, hurtling them back into the walls painfully. She can still only hear the men and women in the emergency pod with her. It's noise. She can't make out any words in all of it.

Everything is still. Some of the soldiers are asking if Joker made it, if the Commander made it. Of course the Commander made it. No, another one says, no one could survive that. They look at her uneasily but as if not realizing why. Liara doesn't realize why.

"Shepard isn't dead." She tells them blankly but the words sound hollow in her ears. Maybe her ears are ringing. The Normandy is like a meteorite, blazing through the sky. It's too close, all of it. Like a scorching star, it sears all the air from her lungs. Her eyes are wide and strained. It burns, cold and hot all in one, everything burns.


End file.
